Magic is Might
by katieofwesteros
Summary: A group of powerful young wizards must travel across the sea and bring balance to the Seven Kingdoms before they destroy themselves.
1. Chapter 1

(Spoiler Alert! If you haven't read ALL the books yet you'll be very angry with me!)

The war for the Iron Throne was still raging across Westeros, tearing apart the land and killing countless common folk. Men are being killed, women raped, and cities put to flame. Even in the farthest reaches of the world, the effect of the war in the seven kingdoms could be felt.

Across the Dothraki sea, Daenerys Targaryen has realized her destiny to rule the seven kingdoms in a terrifying misadventure on the back of her largest and most ferocious dragon, Drogon, but has been discovered and taken captive by Khal Jhaqo, one of the Dothraki kos of Drogo's old khalasar who left her when her khal died. She is the last known Targaryen in the world.

King Tommen sits on the iron throne; a young boy, easily swayed by the whims of his mother and her selfish schemes and is a most unfit match for the menace of the throne on which he sits. His wife Margaery Tyrell is also whispering into his ear, trying to bend him to her will. Slowly Tyrell's and their bannerman are infiltrating Kings landing trying to increase their power over the land.

Cersei Lannister was a prisoner of the Faith and was forced to share her shame with the entire city. She has returned to court shamed but more vengeful and manipulative than ever.

Stannis Baratheon remains at the Wall, far in the north away from the war for the iron throne. The Nights Watch is waging a very different sort of war, against an enemy they barely understand. Stannis is the rightful heir to the Iron Throne, but decided the to rule the realm he must first protect it. He marches towards Winterfell but gets caught in a debilitating snowstorm. The wellness of himself and his host hangs in the balance.

Euron Greyjoy is king in the Iron Islands. He has begun his rule by leading many successful raids along the Reach. However accomplished he may be in raiding, he is less accomplished in waging war.

Meanwhile in Oldtown in the middle of the war, there sits a place remarkably untouched. The Citadel. But the Citadel has many deep secrets and none outside of it truly know what it is. It is a school for young wizards and witches. The secret of magic is still fairly well hidden. When the witches and wizards emerge into the common world they pose as maesters, and are forced to only show a fraction of their skills. The power of magic is the only thing that can save the Kingdom now.

When the fate of Westeros hangs in the balance a group of brave young wizards and witches must set out and alter the course of history forever.


	2. Chapter 2

"Pepper Imps"

The gargoyle that stood guard at the foot of the staircase to the Headmasters office leapt out of the way.

Harry ascended, his friends following closely behind him.

"Come in." called McGonagall from inside the Headmaster's Office.

"To what do I owe the pleasure Mr Potter? And you Mr Weasley, Ms Granger?" she said when she saw who was calling.

"Professor, we have to talk. Things are worse than ever out there. We were just out at the inn.. You should've seen it. Out by the docks Randyll Tarly is hanging people left right and center for petty little crimes. It's not right. That isn't justice, it's genocide. And right when we were returning to the castle, a group of refugees came. They... They were.. You can't imagine the things they were saying. They were like skeletons. Like inferi. Something has to be done."

Behind him Ron and Hermione echoed their agreement.

McGonagall let out a deep sigh.

"I know. I've seen this coming for quite some time. I was just hoping they would solve this on their own. It's obvious that this is only getting worse. Something has to be done."

"What can we do Professor?" asked Ron.

"Someone must travel across the sea and bring Daenerys Targaryen back to Westeros where she belongs."

A tense silence followed, punctuated by Hermione.

"Professor... They say she has dragons." she said worriedly.

"Well then we're just going to have to send someone who likes dragons, won't we?"

Harry exchanged relieved glances with Ron and Hermione. This meant Hagrid would probably be coming with them. Hagrid was infamous for his infatuation with magical beasts of every sort, and he has always wanted a dragon.

"Professor?" asked Ron "How exactly are we going to get Daenerys across the sea, and how will she win the throne when she is here?"

"She has an army, in a way. With some help it should not be difficult to raise more soldiers."

As they all mulled over the plan in their heads it became painfully evident that it was not much of a plan at all. Where would they get the coin to pay for such an expenditure? Were the three of them and Hagrid supposed to bring a foreign army across the sea all the way from Meereen to conquer their very own country?

It seemed McGonagall had been expecting this sort of request for a great deal longer than they would've assumed, for she had already thought out some more details.

"It should be simple enough to hire a ship to take you across the narrow sea, however no ship will take you all the way to Meereen, and I dare not let you travel there by land, far to risky. However, we do happen to know some wizards who just happen to have a large ship handy."

Harry and Ron looked at each other in confusion, while Hermione had evidently figured out what she meant.

"Durmstrang!" she exclaimed.

McGonagall nodded in approval.

"I have already sent out letters to Durmstrang and they have returned with their approval. You three, Hagrid, as a group of other people of your choosing will set sail within the next week."

A week? It was obvious no time could be lost.

"You have many preparations to do, get on with it! I need some peace and quiet!" barked McGonagall.

Harry, Ron and Hermione rushed out of her office and down the stairs going over what they just heard, and how they were to accomplish the gargantuan task set before them.

"A week!?" exclaimed Ron indignantly. "How in bloody hell does she think we can get everything accomplished in a week?"

Hermione looked painfully uncomfortable and anxious.

"Are we even sure that we're doing the right thing?" said Hermione, wringing her hands.

"What do you mean? Something has to be done. That was the reason we talked to McGonagall in the first place." Harry replied.

"Well.. It's just... They say that King Tommen isn't truly King Roberts son... So shouldn't Stannis be the rightful king?"

"Stannis doesn't have any heirs. It would just be delaying an inevitable war when he died." Ron pointed out.

"He has a daughter!" Hermione shouted indignantly.

"And and bloody ugly one, if the rumors are true-"

"Is that really all that matters to you? A girl can be just as good a ruler as a boy, and it doesn't matter if they're pretty-"

"Will you guys please stop bickering!" Harry yelled. "McGonagall is right Hermione. Daenerys is the true ruler."

"Oh of course you'd be okay with her being a Queen. I hear she's pretty..." Hermione mumbled under her breath and sighed. "But I suppose you're right. She's the only hope."

The walked towards the great hall in silence. When they entered, a hush fell over the entire crowd. All heads turned in their direction. They took their usual seats at the Gryffindor house table and looked over at Ginny, who was determinedly staring at her pea soup and was beet red.

"What did you do, Ginny?"

She looked up self consciously. "Um well... I was curious about why you guys were going to see McGonagall so I kinda followed you up there, and I found a couple pairs of Extendable Ears in my pocket... And then everyone knew."

Ron looked at her pointedly.

"You, miss," he said with a mouth full of food "need to learn how to keep your nose out of other peoples business."

"So can I come?" she asked excitedly.

"I dunno Ginny. You haven't finished school yet and your mother would kill me." Harry said uncertainly.

"She didn't kill Ron when you guys went off in seventh year. I mean, she came close... But he's still intact."

Harry and Ron exchanged glances.

"It's not safe Ginny..." said Ron.

"What do you think Hermione?" shot out Ginny.

"Well, she is legally an adult, she could come if she wants to..."

"Yeah! Thanks Hermione!"

Harry and Ron exchanged glances.

"I promise I won't even get in your way or bother you at all!" pleaded Ginny desperately.

Ron sighed in resignation.

"Fine, you can come."

"Yes!"

Suddenly at attention was drawn away from Ginny with the arrival of a new person at their table.

"Potter. Weasley... Granger." said Draco Malfoy with a curt nod at each of them. It would seem he was still having some difficulty addressing Hermione by her name instead of the customary 'mudblood' or 'scum'.

"What do you want Malfoy?" asked Ron rudely.

"I want to come."

A tense silence followed. What could he mean by this?

"Why?" asked Harry, genuinely confused.

Draco thought hard before replying slowly and deliberately.

"I want a chance to redeem myself. You know, to do something good just once. Plus I also want to get away from Hogwarts. It brings back bad memories." He said earnestly, pleading with his eyes. It was an unexpected display of emotion that took all of them by surprise.

The group looked around at each other, trying to see what everyone else was making of this. All eyes turned to Harry and he knew he would be the one making the final decision.

"You can come."

"Thank you." Draco said looking deeply grateful.

"Perhaps," said Hermione, speaking up "We should go to the library. To do some research on what we might need or encounter across the sea."

"Of course Hermione. We're about to go on a death quest across the world and all you can think of is getting to a library." said Ron.

"It doesn't hurt to be prepared Ronald."

"We don't even know what we're preparing for!"

"That's the point of preparation!"

Draco interrupted their bickering.

"I agree with Granger. It wouldn't hurt to know a bit more about where we're going."

"So it's decided then. Finish up your dinner."

They ate quickly and then started towards the library, comparing what they already know about Meereen and the lands around it. They turned a corner and happened upon a rather unpleasant sight. Professor Trelawny was walking in their direction shuffling a pack of cards and muttering. She glanced up and exclaimed in delight when she saw who it was.

"Harry! Dear boy! How have you been? Not that I need ask, of course, my inner eye has been trained on you." she said in her usual dreamlike fashion.

"Ah! Who do we have here?" she said finally noticing the others. "Mr Weasley, good to see you. Take care next time you walk down stairs. Ms Granger, yes, mind you stay away from sharp objects in the next few days. Ms Weasley, lovely, lovely. And... Mr Malfoy. Yes. Well I better be off."

She reshuffled her card and made to walk off when she seemed to seize up. She then spoke in unearthly tones that Harry had heard far too often.

"The power of seven will cross the sea

Retrieve the dragon, and build the army

A clash of emotions will turn friend upon friend

But they'll find the solution lays past the end

To reach an agreement what was lost will be found

And the three headed dragon will be the ones crowned"

Once she uttered that last verse she strode off like nothing had ever happened. They stood staring at the spot where she had walked off, completely dumbfounded by what had just happened.

"What was that!?" asked Ginny.

"A prophecy." Harry replied. "I've heard her make two before."

"What was it? I don't even remember what she said now!" said Ron worriedly.

"I remember it all." Hermione spoke.

They all rolled their eyes at her.

"Let's get to the library." Harry said and they all agreed.

"Okay. 'The power of seven shall cross the sea'," explained Hermione. "That's obvious. Us, Hagrid and one other person will go across the sea."

"Who will the other person be?" asked Ron "Neville?"

"No. Neville needs a break. I heard his parents died a couple of hours after the battle of Hogwarts."

A grim silence followed.

"It's probably for the best though," Ginny said. "They were living half a life cooped up in St. Mungos."

Draco looked more guilty and sad than any person Harry had seen before, but he saw no way to be able to console him. He was still struggling with why he let him in on this in the first place.

"Then it says 'Retrieve the dragon and build the army'," Hermione said, bringing the conversation back on topic. "Again, self explanatory."

"'A clash of emotions will turn friend upon friend, But they'll find the solution lays past the end' What does that mean?"

"It means we'll probably get a bit testy with each other, and who could blame us, cooped up on a ship for weeks." said Ginny.

"But 'the solution lays past the end?' I don't understand. If something lays past the end then that something would be the end. What lays past the end?"

"The beginning." replied a familiar dreamy voice.

"Luna!" yelled Ginny as she ran forth to embrace Luna Lovegood.

"Shhhh!" said Mme Pince, the librarian.

"Sorry!" Ginny stage-whispered.

"What do you mean, the beginning lays past the end?" asked Ron.

"It's a circle isn't it? Every ending is just a new beginning."

"So the solution must be here in Westeros?" asked Hermione. "Interesting. Hang on to that thought."

"Next it said 'To reach an agreement what was lost will be found, and the dragons together will be the ones crowned'. A lost dragon. A lost dragon..."

"How would you lose a dragon?" asked Ron. "Dragons have got to be bloody huge!"

"Don't be daft Ron," chastised Hermione "they're not talking about real dragons! They're talking about Targaryens!"

"A lost Targaryen? That would be awfully hard too lose too, wouldn't it?" said Ginny.

"Maybe one of Rhaegar's children survived the sack at Kings landing?" said Draco, speaking up for the first time. "That's the only option isn't it? We know for a fact that Viserys is dead, along with Aerys, Rhaegar and Elia, the only deaths that even have a possibility of being faked would be Rhaegar's children. And since the prophecy said they would be crowned together, I'm assuming it was probably the boy, Aegon. He'd be about Daenerys age now. Old enough to lead."

"If he's in Westeros, why don't we just help him to victory? It would save ourselves a lot of work." proposed Ron.

"It's obvious. He can't do it without Daenerys. He needs the dragons." said Hermione.

They mulled that over in their heads for a while.

"Luna," asked Harry turning to face her. "would you come to Meereen with us and bring Daenerys back to Westeros?"

"I would love to. You know, my dad was going to take me to Braavos last year to search for blibbering humdingers but he couldn't find a ship. It's a shame really, his would be the first complete paper on the sleep habits of..."

One by one people zoned out as Luna rambled on and on about one mythical species or another. Finally she finished.

"I can't wait to get sailing." said Harry.


	3. Chapter 3

When Khal Jhaqo had found her I the middle of the Dothraki sea she was treated like an honored guest, but it was clear to Daenerys that she was a prisoner. She was given a mount and a bed beside the Khal's three wives, Hanna, Lirri, and Baara. Her every need was met and she regained health everyday, but she was almost wishing she was on her own in the middle of the grasslands. She could go no where without it seeming like no less than four Dothraki horselords had their eyes trained on her every move. Her new mount was harsh and difficult to ride, nothing like her silver, the horse that Khal Drogo had given her as a wedding gift. She found Khal Jhaqo's wives to be threatening and unwelcoming women, they took no pleasure in comfort or beauty of any kind. They lived only to be dutiful wives to their Khal.

Yet she found joy watching the young ones play together and poke fun at each other. It gave her an empty sense of longing, for her only childhood companion had been Viserys, who was cruel and mean and volatile. She doubted Viserys had ever known how to have fun. Khal Drogo had crowned him in molted gold when they stopped in Vaes Dothrak and ever since he perished she felt much safer, but much lonelier and desperate too. She was the last of an ancient line, traced all the way back to Aegon the Conquerer. She was the blood of the dragon, and it was her destiny to rule over the Seven Kingdoms. Yet it was likely that even if she lived to be a withered old lady, the Targaryen line would die with her. When she traded her unborn son Rhaego's life for Drogo's, the Maegi had promised her that she would never bear a living child. It filled her with a sense of deep sadness to know she would never have children.

Dany was riding in the middle of the khalasar all alone, just taking in the everlasting grasslands waving in the gentle breeze. She felt someone approach behind her. It was one of Jhaqo's bloodriders, of whom Dany did not know his name.

"Khal Jhaqo wishes to speak with you." he said curtly in Dothraki.

Dany folled him as he led her to the front of the khalasar where Jhaqo was riding on his magnificent chestnut mount.

"You've been causing me much indecision." said Jhaqo.

"I apologize. I assure you, it was quite unintentional."

"We've been riding towards big yellow city for the past couple days. You noticed?"

Dany had, but she had tried not to think about what that would mean.

"We will hold you for ransom. How much do you think rich husband willing to give?"

It was a question Dany had been asking herself ever sing Jhaqo's khalsar had discovered her. Her husband, Hidzar zo Loraq married her for selfish reasons and now that he was 'king' in Meereen she wasn't sure if he needed her anymore. How much did Khal Jhaqo want? What could the leader of a khalasar of twenty thousand riders want from a slavers city? She didn't even know how the city was doing since her abrupt departure on Drogon.

"What do you want?" she asked tentatively.

"Water. Not much rain lately, horses are dying. We need water soon or we all will suffer."

Dany gaped, not wanting to believe what he was asking her. Water? How was she supposed to provide him with water? Even she didn't have to power to summon water out of thin air.

"I don't know how you expect me too be able to do that." she replied.

"Don't care much how. We need water."

"I can't give you water."

"I can't give you freedom."

Dany had to find a way to make this work. Maybe if she somehow got Drogon to let her ride him again she could... But she was more likely to burn off all her hair again than to get Drogon to listen to her commands in the air and lead a khalasar to water. There had to be another way, something she hasn't thought of yet.

Yet no matter how long and hard Dany thought over the next couple of days, she couldn't think of a plausible way to provide them with enough water to quench a khalasar of twenty thousand. It would take a feat of near impossible magic. Yet each day they rode closer and closer towards Meereen, her time was running out. For she knew when they got there the sword would be hanging right over her head.

Dany knew she had to keep her composure, that if Jhaqo knew that what he was asking was impossible, he might just start riding in a different direction, knowing that he would never get what he needs in Meereen. No, if he knew that he would most certainly have her killed. Dany made a point of being alone as much as possible, to make them think she was performing some sort of solitary water-inducing witchcraft.

They would arrive in Meereen in a couple of days. Time was running out. She needed help, but she had no one to turn to.


	4. Chapter 4

When he opened his eyes, everything was red. It was swirling around in his brain, a picture getting clearer every second. A pale face with red eyes stood above him. Mellisandre.

"Wha-what happened?" he said looking around the room for some sign of where he wasbut moved his head to fast and vertigo overwhelmed him.

"You were betrayed by your own brothers. You were very close to death Jon Snow. R'hllor decided it was not your time. With his help I saved you."

Jon tried to sit up but felt an excruciating pain in his gut and he flopped back down on the cot hewas laying on, breathing heavily.

"Where am I?"

"Eastwatch-by-the-sea."

"How did I get here?"

"That I do not know Jon Snow. They say you just arrived one day, stumbling and clutching your stomach, with no idea of what happened or how you got there. The maester did his best, but you were quickly slipping away. That was when I materialized here, and I'm just as confused as you are.

"Needless to say, you are no longer Commander of the Nights Watch. You were assumed to be dead until you dissapeared, which successfully convinced them that you were no longer capable of leading."

Jon felt empty inside. If he was no longer Commander of the Nights watch, who was he? Just Jon Snow, Ned Stark's bastard. But his father was dead, and in the eyes of the king, he died a traitor. Was he, Jon, a traitor too? His vow was to serve until death, yet here he was, not dead, and obviously not a member of the Night's Watch.

"What happened to me?" Jon asked, trying to remember the details but everything was a blur.

"So far as I can tell you were attacked by your Brothers. I haven't the faintest clue why, perhaps you would care to enlighten me?"

Jon struggled to remember.

"I... I received a letter. From Ramsay Bolton. He said Stannis was dead, his entire army was dead. I didn't know what to believe. In the letter he said that the Nights Watch would need to swear fealty to the Boltons if we want to survive. I decided that enough was enough. I needed to take action and march against him. I didn't order anyone to come with me, but I tried my hardest to get some of the wildlings to march with me. Of course, that's breaking my oaths and no one was too happy about it, including myself. Then... Ser Patrick was killed by Wun Wun the giant, and everything was So chaotic... They attacked me. They kept saying 'for the Watch'. I can't believe it. My own Brothers..."

Jon stifled a sob. He was a man now. He must not cry over betrayals, no matter how severe.

"Where were you when this happened?"

"Me, I was looking into my fires. Without much success. Still I am baffled by the recurrent images I see. When I heard a great noise I emerged from my room to see what was going on. I saw a great mass of men in chaos, there was much fighting going on. And in the middle of it you were on the ground bleeding profusely and trying not to get trampled. I tried to push through the crowd to reach you, but someone I lost you in the crowd. I continued pushing through the crowd trying to find you, but it was fruitless. You seemed to have disappeared. By then the fighting has dissipated and moved to other places. I tried to go back to my room but I encountered a large group of quarreling men. I pushed though them and one of them grabbed my arm and then I was here, at Eastwatch."

To say Jon was confused would be an understatement. He had no idea how he had appeared here. Everything had been so chaotic, not to mention he was half unconscious.

"I am not pleased to be here Jon Snow.

In my fires I have seen fire here Jon Snow. Great towers by the sea put to flame. It was fully my intention to stay as far away from the sea as possible, yet here I am, exactly where I did not intend to venture."

"Why didn't you leave then? Why did you even try to help me?"

"I pitied you. You are so young. You took a risk and it didn't turn out well, but that is part of life. Yes, Jon Snow, I pitied you."

"How bad was I?"

Melisandre gazed at him sadly, as though debating how much she should tell him.

"You were dead."

Jon gaped. He certainly didn't feel dead.

"Dead!? What do you mean, dead?"

"Not living. You were lifeless when I reached you. The power of R'hllor saved you."

Jon was rendered speechless.

"I'll leave you to your thoughts. There is a cup of milk of the poppy next to you in case the pain gets too bad." said Melisandre, gracefully exiting the room.

Jon certainly did have a lot to think about. For his entire life, he had worshiped the old gods, the gods of the north, his fathers gods. He had taken his Nights Watch vows in front of an ancient Weirwood. When he first met Melisandre he assumed her to be some sort of new-age fraud, using this fake god to gain power. And she certainly had a great deal of power over Stannis, even though she often made him uncomfortable with her proclamations of his greatness. It was clear to most everyone that she was Stannis' true queen.

Yet if he had been dead as she had said, then that god of hers gave him his life. He owed his life to R'hllor. How was he supposed to act now? To worship R'hllor would be against everything he knows and is, half a Stark; cold and grey, dark and strong. This fire god from across the sea was as foreign as dragons to him.

Jon suddenly felt exhausted. He grabbed the flask of milk of the poppy and drained it, letting its chalky flavor slide down his throat. In only a couple seconds the world turned to blackness.

Someone was nudging his shoulder.

"You must wake up. I'm afraid it's quite important!" Melisandre whispered urgently.

"What is it?" Jon said groggily.

"We have to go."

"Go? Go where?"

"Away. I have seen in my fires... Terrible things. We have to leave."

"Hold on. Where do you think you're taking me?"

"Across the narrow sea to Braavos. It is safe there."

"To Braavos!?" exclaimed Jon. "I'm not going to Bravos! I was dead not a week ago, I'm hardly in the mood to sail the sea."

"You must come to Braavos with me. It is safe there."

Jon refused to dignify that statement with an answer.

"There is nothing for you here Jon Snow." Melisandre urged. "You cannot rejoin the Nights Watch, and if anyone finds out to user alive, you will be killed immediately. This time for good."

The truth of that filled Jon with an empty hollowness.

Jon sat up and felt a dull ache in his stomach, much improved from his last awakening. He stood up aided by Melisandre. She steadied him as se led him through a series of narrow passages and hallways into the frigid night air.

There was a small harbor in front of them. Docked at it were two ships, one obviously about to depart.

"Hurry!" said Melisandre, mostly to herself.

Her and Jon staggered on board. She set him down on deck while she slipped a small bag into the hand of a man who was obviously the captain.

Aided by Melisandre Jon made it to a minuscule cabin below deck and fell asleep instantly.

When he woke up he was very disoriented.

'What a week' he thought. 'First, stabbed by my friends. Second, I died. Third, I was brought back to life. And finally, I appear to be on a ship.'

He found he had regained almost all of his strength and walked up onto the deck.

There was no sight of land on any direction. He walked over to the rail and marveled at the sight. He had never seen so much water before. It was exhilarating and frightening at the same time. There were so many new smells and sensation it was overwhelming.

"You ever seen this much water before?" asked an unfamiliar female voice from behind him. He turned his head to see a striking girl behind him.

"Not quite so much, no." he replied politely.

She laughed softly.

"I practically grew up on a boat. I've always felt comfortable at sea. Although I've never been this far from home before."

"What do you plan on doing in Braavos?"

"Whatever I can I suppose." she replied sadly. "Not much for a girl like me to do anywhere except for... well..."

Jon looked her over fully. She looked to be about 15, a year or two older than his sister Sansa. She had long hair that was of an undefinable color, sometimes gold, sometimes brown. She was wearing an ill fitting fur cloak, but it was clear she was slim beneath her makeshift clothing. Her eyes were large and soft, lips full, and her skin was a curious shade of caramel than contrasted with the more western features of her face. She radiated such an aura of naïvety it was hard to imagine her working the streets.

"I'm sure there are other opportunities."

"Maybe... I won't be holding my breath though. What about you? What are you looking for in Braavos?"

"Safety."

"Oh!" she said, understanding. "Did you come aboard with that crazy red lady?"

"Melisandre? Yes."

She nodded. "She's been raving all day. Spent half the night looking into the fire in the captains quarters, just staring. It's odd."

Jon smiled a bit. "She is a bit odd."

"You two together then?"

"what!?" cried Jon. "Not at all. She's a priest and I'm... Well..."

"Don't worry about it." she said lightly. "You hungry? Might be we got some eggs and pickles? If that's not your taste we can offer pickles and eggs. Eggs and pickles 'bout all we got."

"Eggs and pickles will do."

She went beneath deck and

emerged with some eggs and pickles. They were revolting. It took all his willpower not to vomit over the edge of the boat. The girl wolfed it down as though it was the finest meal she'd ever tasted.

"Forgive me, I don't think I know your name."

"The name's Keena. You?"

"Jon."

"So, what is it in Westeros that you have to get away from so badly?"

"Oh, um... My friends don't like me anymore."

She laughed heartily, throwing her head back.

"I'd reckon it's a bit more serious than that. But I won't make you tell me. Wanna know what brings me here?"

"Sure."

"Well, my Ma and Pa were poor. Pa was a fisherman and I spent most of my time with him. My Ma didn't have the stomach for life on the sea, so she stayed in our little house and did the odd job.

Me and my Pa were real close, he taught me everything to do with boats. I love the sea, though we never ventured to far offshore.

Then one knight some men in armor with swords came knocking at the door. They dragged Pa out, saying he was going to 'fight for the king'. Which king I don't know. That was more than a year ago, we're pretty sure he's dead. He was a good sailor, but hopelessly uncoordinated and willing to hop in the middle of any fight, no matter how small the odds.

Well then it was just me and Ma. Couple months after they took Pa away Ma got remarried. He was terrible. I stayed away from him s'much I could, but Ma was pregnant and I had to take care of her. She died giving birth and the babe died not too long after. Ma's new husband was just 'bout ready to kill me, as if it was my fault, but I ran away."

Jon was speechless. He remembered his courtesies.

"I'm very sorry. It seems you've suffered a great deal."

"What about you?"

"What do you mean?"

"Well... While you were sleeping you would sometimes..." she said hesitantly. "Scream. Not words or anything. Well nothing that made sense anyways."

Jon was deeply embarrassed. It was obvious she knew much more than she was letting on.

"Who's Ygritte?" she asked.

Jon gaped. Had he been saying her name in his sleep?

"She's dead." he said curtly.

"Oh." she said, and she let the subject drop.


	5. Chapter 5

Sansa Stark smoothed out her gown nervously and combed her shiny hair with her fingers, letting it flow down her back. Since she had arrived in the Vale with her hair dyed brown the dye had been slowly fading, revealing the auburn underneath.

Today would be the first day she would meet her possible future husband, Harrold Hardyng. Petyr Baelish had thought up the match and intended to bring up the possibility of betrothal this very night, if all went well.

But the marriage would not be between Sansa Stark and Harrold Hardyng; it would be Alayne Stone, her alias, who would be wedded. She had been forced to take up a fake name when she fled Kings Landing, away from her horrible dwarf husband, Tyrion Lannister. She had to remember that she was Alayne and Petyr was her father.

A serving girl rushed in.

"Ser Harrold is here, m'lady." she said with a curtsy.

Sansa took a deep breath.

"Send him in."

"Right away ma'm."

It was not two minutes of waiting before he arrived.

When he walked through the door, most of Alayne's* fears disappeared. He was a man straight out of her dreams. He was tall and powerfully built for his age. He had a strong jaw and thick wavy blonde hair. His air practically exuded chivalry and courage.

Alayne curtsied gracefully.

"You look lovely, my lady Alayne." he said confidently.

Alayne felt a blush creeping up her cheeks.

"I am very pleased to make your acquaintance." she said, remembering her courtesies. "My father Lord Baelish awaits in his solar, should we venture up there?"

"It would be my pleasure."

She escorted him up to her fathers solar and led him inside. Her father rose to greet them.

"Ah! Harrold! So nice to see you. I trust your journey up was tolerable, I know it is quite the climb."

"It wasn't too bad." he said boastfully. "I've made the climb before, though not often. It's not like I was about to get in the basket and ride with the turnips."

"Good, good. Would you care for a bite to eat? I'm sure the kitchens can produce something to your liking."

"Now you mention it, I could use a small meal, it has been a long time since I last ate."

They had a joyful meal, just the three of them. Harrold was very amiable, if not a little boastful.

Alayne was thoughtful throughout the dinner. It was rumored that despite his youth, Harrold had already fathered a bastard. Alayne was only 14 herself and Harrold was about the same age.

'It won't matter.' she thought to herself 'when we are wed he will never turn eyes upon another girl.'

She brought her attentions back to reality and finished her meal. Harrold excused himself for a minute and her father turned on her.

"What do you think?"

"He is very handsome. He seems kind."

"Yes, he is quite a suitable match. I think he likes you too. It would be hard not too. You look lovely today."

"Thank you."

Harrold returned promptly. Almost as soon as he had taken his previous seat at the table her father jumped up.

"Well I'm afraid I have some business to attend to. I'll leave you two alone. Call the steward if you need anything, I don't want to be bothered."

He exited the room turning around quickly to look at Alayne and give what she saw to be a very small wink.

Once she was alone again with Harrold she realized how dark it was getting. It seemed everyday there is less and less day light.

'Winter is coming.'

No, she mustn't think that. That was a Sansa Stark thought, not an Alayne Stone thought.

The room in which they were in was lit only by the braziers on the wall and a small fire crackling in the hearth.

Harrold was looking at her queerly from across the table. He stood up slowly and stood next to her chair. For whatever reason her heart was beating 10 times faster than usual.

"You look very beautiful." he said, looking into her eyes. Alayne was sure her face was beet red.

He knelt by her chair and her face was almost level with his.

"Have you ever kissed anyone?" he asked.

She nodded nervously and said "Well, yes... but no one that... that really counts."

He chuckled. Then he reached out and put his hand on he cheek. If it was possible her heart started beating even faster.

"Are you still a maid?"

She nodded firmly.

He gave a small smile and smashed his lips onto hers.

At first it was overwhelming, but soon enough her lips were moving in sync with his. His fingers tangled in her hair and pulled her face closer to his.

Suddenly his fingers came out of her hair and went to around her waist. He lifted her up by the waist and placed her on the edge of the dining table, continuing to kiss her.

Their breath was becoming more labored, their kisses more passionate and desperate. He pushed her back so she was lying on the table and he got on top of her. His hands were fumbling at the bodice of her dress when she put a hand to his chest and gently pushed him back.

"No."

He pulled away, breathing heavily.

Alayne felt amazing. That was what love should feel like.

She stared into his eyes asking a silent question.

"Yes. I think I will marry you after all." he said quietly, kissing her lightly on the lips once more.

She rushed breathless into her fathers solar.

"How did it go?" he asked.

"We are to be married!" she said, practically singing.

"Congratulations! Everything is going to plan. I think you shall be married within a week. Is Harrold in his room?"

She nodded.

"Good, good." he said happily. "Now, I recommend you brush your hair, you look as though you were caught it a windstorm."

She blushed from her neck to the root of her hair.

"Don't be ashamed. That was my scheme all along. I knew he wouldn't be able to keep his hands off you and a little temptation was all we needed to secure this marriage. I trust you enjoyed yourself?"

If it was possible, she blushed even deeper.

Her father smiled hugely at her.

"Off to bed now, we have much to do tomorrow."

"You can't marry him! You're mine! You are mine!" screamed Robert Arryn, a sickly 11 year old prone to illness and shaking fits, go also happened the be the heir to the Vale and Warden of the East.

"My sweetrobin, I won't leave you. This just means Harrold will be loving with us up in here in the Eyrie." Alayne said comfortingly.

"I don't want him to live here! This is my castle! I forbid it!" he shrieked.

"Don't be childish, my sweetrobin. Besides, Ser Harrold is a knight. Maybe he can teach you how to be a knight too."

He stopped shrieking for a moment to consider that prospect.

"I don't need nobodies help to be a knight."

"You mean 'anybody's help'."

"I can be a knight all by myself."

Alayne sighed.

"I'm sure you can, but it couldn't hurt to practice a bit."

Robert humphed and crossed his arms.

"Now, put on your cloak so we can go and say goodbye to Harrold until he comes back in a couple days for our wedding."

That was evidently the wrong thing to say, for it started Robert on one of his fits again.

"You can't marry him! You can't! Momma said you were supposed to marry me!"

"I'm too old for you, sweetrobin. You deserve someone your age, for by the time we could've gotten married I would be old and wrinkled."

"No! You're only three years older than me! You liar!"

He then started shaking violently.

"Maester!" she called and the maester rushed in with some potion and fed him some. Almost immediately his shaking subsided, though he continued to tremor. Alayne took this interruption as a escape to go say goodbye to her betrothed, who was waiting outside, almost ready to leave.

She hastened outside and saw Harrold standing there wrapped up in furs, for it was getting colder each day, and it was already cold up in the Eyrie.

"May your journey be safe." she told him.

"I'll be back soon enough." he said, smiling.

"I know."

Before he made to head off he grabbed her and kissed her lightly on the lips. Too soon, he pulled away and left. Alayne was left standing in the courtyard smiling, just remembering the feel of his lips on hers.

*Sansa will be referred to as Alayne until such time as she re-adopts her given name


End file.
